


Bleed

by VisionaryGalaxy



Series: A Thousand Futures of Me and You [72]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Battle, Boys In Love, Domestic Bliss, Don't copy to another site, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Stephen Strange, M/M, Protective Tony Stark, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-11-13 17:37:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18035855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VisionaryGalaxy/pseuds/VisionaryGalaxy
Summary: Tony paid him no mind, hands coming up to cup his face as he searched Stephen’s frantically, “love, I need you to stay awake alright? You hear me?”





	Bleed

**Author's Note:**

> Felt like doing something more like some of my older stuff lol.

   There was a pounding in Stephen’s head, insistent and painful like a jackhammer going off, his lungs burned with each breath he inhaled courtesy of the dust clogging the air and settling in the delicate flesh, his knees stung and burned where glass and debris dug into them, his hands ache with a familiarity that was downright comforting where he braced himself in the dirt.

   It was silent, for the first time in five hours, the streets were quiet and still, no sign of shadows running through the fog of debris, no calls for help, no alien voices clicking at each other, or weapons being fired. Stephen lifted his head slowly, wincing, as he peered with narrowed eyes at his surroundings, the sunlight slicing through the dimness in an eerie parody of early morning mist.

   With a low groan, he shifted back until he was sitting properly, back braced on a large piece of concrete that had fallen from a nearby building. The Cloak hovered next to him, shaking itself off from the dirt and flitting around him as though trying to figure out if he was injured. Stephen ignored it, too exhausted to even acknowledge its good will.

   Distantly, Tony and Peter came to mind, along with the list of Avengers that seemed to grow by the day, wondering if they were also scattered about in the destruction somewhere. Usually, on the few missions Stephen joined in on, he was the first out there, gathering them together, cataloging injuries and so on, but for once he was content to just sit.

   He was confident they were fine, there would be an uproar by now if somebody wasn’t, no he would just wait. Tony or Peter would find him eventually, and besides, he wasn’t all together sure he could stand right then.

   Raising a shaking hand, Stephen pressed it gently to the back of his head, numb fingers searching carefully. It didn’t take long to come in contact with a damp, sticky substance and with a sigh lowered his hand to find it stained red. He wasn’t surprised, having been hit by a stray alien, though it pissed him off enough to gather the strength to send every single one in the nearby vicinity to the mirror dimension. He’d have to go and retrieve them later, he thought idly.

   “ _Dr. Strange?!”_

   The shout was a little way out and Stephen blinked blearily in its direction. He opened his mouth to call out, only to find it dry and painful, choking as he tried to speak and making him aware of just how parched he was.

   Finding it distinctly uncomfortable Stephen stayed silent, resting his head back on the concrete block and wincing as he did so, tilting his head to avoid the gash back there. He knew he should probably do something about it, but he was too tired, his limbs growing increasingly heavy and his lids sliding closed. He’d fix it when he woke up, he just really, really wanted to sleep.

_“Stephen?!”_

_“Dr. Strange?!”_

_“Strange?!”_

_“Doctor?!”_

_“Dr. Strange?!”_

   He grimaced at the chorus of voices moving steadily closer, the Cloak tapping at him harshly and making him flap uselessly at it as irritation stirred inside him. Was it so hard to let him sleep? Everyone was always so god damn needy, he got rid of the aliens now he deserved a rest.

   There was a new sound then, right in front of him. Twin rocket boosters landing and the clank of metal, familiar and comforting, enough to make Stephen peel his eyes open despite the heaviness trying to drag them back down.

   He watched as Tony hurried toward him, suit retracting into the casing on his chest. But that wasn’t what drew his attention, no it was the paleness of Tony’s face as he dropped to his knees by his side, the fear lingering in his warm brown eyes, the curse as he reached out to check Stephen’s head.

   “I’m alright,” he tried to reassure, hating the expression there.

   Tony paid him no mind, hands coming up to cup his face as he searched Stephen’s frantically, “love, I need you to stay awake alright? You hear me?”

   The urgency in his voice, the tone made Stephen wince, shaking his head a little.

   “ _Hey,”_ Tony snapped. “Non-negotiable sweetheart. Now _open your eyes.”_

   Startled he opened them, not having realized they had closed again. Tony’s eyes were flitting over his body, panic stirring in their depths and Stephen hated that so much, there was nothing to worry about. He’d take a nap and be good as new.

   There was an insistent tug then a long rip and Stephen frowned as Tony held up a piece of fabric torn from his robes. He expected Tony to press it to the wound on his head, but instead he felt it being wrapped around his arm and when his gaze moved sluggishly down, he saw a steady stream of blood gushing from a wound there, and Tony’s shaking fingers trying to tie a knot. _Uh_.

   “You’re such an idiot,” Tony was muttering, and Stephen wanted to roll his eyes. “We were winning, you didn’t have to use you’re fucking magic to- god you never think, you’re going to get yourself killed.”

   Stephen let his head fall to the side, bored and exasperated with Tony’s comments. He let his eyes slip closed again and let out a heavy breath of relief to finally catch some rest, grateful for Tony’s presence even as he continued to complain. He saved them, they should be grateful, probably saved millions in infrastructure too really. Why did the government and news crews like to complain about that so much anyway? At least people were alive, sure taxes were a thing but come on there were worse-

   “ _Stephen?”_ The sharp distressed tone cut through Stephen’s meandering thoughts, though not enough to quite pull him from the brink of unconsciousness, he tried to reassure the voice, but he was afraid it came out as nothing but a moan.

   Hands were on his face again, that voice somewhere between angry and begging but Stephen was just so tired. There were other voices too, louder and closer by the second and all it did was make Stephen want to sleep all the more, to escape the chaos around him. So, he did. He let the darkness encompass him and smiled as it made the pain drain away.

\---

   Stephen came to slowly, the pain in his head heralding in the consciousness with an insistent throbbing. He resisted for several moments, silently cataloguing his body as he went and identifying several aches and pains, but none so prevalent as the burning sensation on his arm. With a groan he peeled back his eyes only to realize he was in a familiar dimly lit room that was definitely in the Sanctuary.

   Before he could process more, however, there was suddenly an excited energized voice by his side making him almost wish he hadn’t woken up.

   “Dr. Strange! You’re awake! Finally, its been like two hours and Mr. Stark was getting really worried, like he’s been in and out dozens of times even though I’m supposed to let him know when you wake up-”

   “Peter,” he croaked, and the boy immediately fell silent. “Water.”

   Peter, who had been standing excitedly next to his bed in jeans and a sweater, hopped to attention like he had been shocked, eyes going comically wide before darting to pour him a glass from the pitcher on the bedside table. Stephen would have laughed if he wasn’t so sore and exhausted.

   “I’m sorry! I should have thought of that!”

   He accepted the glass gratefully with his good arm and sipped it cautiously as his hand trembled. Before he could spill it, the Cloak popped up from where it had been curled up on the bed and steadied it with a corner. The feeling of the cool liquid sliding down his throat was heavenly, finally washing away the dryness and leaving him feeling more alive all at once.

   He handed it back to Peter and took in his surroundings properly. He was tucked into bed, clothed in sweatpants and a T-shirt, the window was open and letting in a pleasant breeze and rays of sunlight. He inhaled and winced at the strain in his head, before looking down at his arm, now properly bandaged.

   “How are you feeling?” Peter asked, clearly anxious and unsure what exactly he was supposed to do.

   Stephen forced a smile, flexing the fingers of his bandaged arm, “alright Peter. Do you think you could go get Tony or Wong please?”

   “Of course!”

   He was already rushing to the door when a stray thought slipped into his mind, making Stephen call out, “Peter, wait,” he turned around, expression eager to help. Stephen paused to gather himself. Memories were streaming in quickly, of the battle, the dust, being hit, banishing the aliens to the mirror dimension, draining himself. He was still trying to figure it out, head pounding and confused. “Is everyone alright?”

   Peter nodded enthusiastically, “oh yeah everyone is ok. I actually heard Cap mentioned that if the Aliens hadn’t disappeared when they did it would have been a lot worse. I think only Mr. Barton had a dislocated solider and Ms. Maximoff had a nasty gash on her leg but other then that everything was pretty minor.”

   Stephen let out a long sigh of relief, “thank you, Peter.”

   He grinned and slipped out the door leaving Stephen to relax back against the pillows, grateful for a reprieve from Peter’s energy, even if he would soon be faced with the reality of Tony’s frustration. Still…he had a more pressing matter to worry about, as he flexed his sore fingers again, lifted the bandaged arm in contemplation, considered how hard it would be to unravel himself. There were stitches, he could tell that much from the irritating tugging beneath, which was not a good sign in the least if the feeling of inflammation held true. He’d have to examine it to be sure, but he was almost certain there was an infection stirring under there.

   The door creaked open and Stephen looked up to see Tony, expression haggard standing in the doorway. Silence thickened the air between them, filled to bursting with words that neither wanted to say in the moment. This was not the first time Stephen had exhausted himself in a move like the one he pulled today, but it was the first time he did it selfishly and so he had no intention of putting up with one of Tony’s rants.

   “Tony, come here.”

   His expression crumpled and suddenly Tony was walking quickly to his side, leaning over him and burying his face in his hair, while his arms encircled him. Stephen let out a low sigh as he eagerly wrapped his good arm around him to tug him closer.

   “You’re such an idiot,” Tony muttered, but he didn’t sound angry, just exhausted.

   “Not this time,” Stephen answered. “I didn’t have a choice Tony. If I hadn’t done it, I would have passed out and ended up dead.”

   Tony pulled back, eyes glassy and red as he fell to his knees with a solid thump next to his bed, a hand stroking over Stephen’s cheek, “you almost were. I couldn’t keep you awake, I’d rather you have used your power to portal out of there.”

   “Hmm,” Stephen hummed. “Not my style.”

   A weak smile spread over his lips, “don’t I know it.”

   “I’m sorry I scared you.”

   Tony shook his head, “no you aren’t.”

   Stephen grinned, ignoring the spike of pain in his skull, “you’re right, I’m not. But I _am_ sorry to say I’ll probably do it again.”

   “That I believe,” Tony paused then, the tension seemingly bleeding away as he slumped a little. “How are you feeling darling?”

   Stephen pursed his lips and Tony rolled his eyes, “alright, what did we do wrong?”

   “Infection in the arm I’m pretty sure. You should have slapped me when I started drifting off even with the concussion, and I can already tell the stitching in my side was a hack job.”

   Tony blinked at him for a moment then sighed, “remind me why I thought dating a surgeon was a good idea.”

   Stephen shrugged, “I don’t know, you’ve always been bad at making good decisions.”

   “Well at least I know it can’t be that bad if you still have your attitude,” Tony’s tone was reproachful, but he was smiling as he carefully lifted his arm and began unwinding the bandaging.

   “Hey,” Tony looked up at him. “I love you.”

   He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to his scarred, trembling fingers, “I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Feels like I haven't posted in forever but its only been five days I think. Sorry about that, hope you enjoy!


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